


The Next Night

by mmmdraco



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:59:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are still in the dizzying whirlwind of the dance, and I dread the coming of the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I mean no harm, I have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

Every cup that I take a sip of tea from, I cannot help but think of her. Every kind of cookie that I try, she is on my mind. And every time I have shaved ice, my tongue remembers her.

At first, I could not believe that she, as the Rose Bride, had any claim to me, nor I to her. Yet, once she and I had been roommates for a while, I began to think of her as something which belonged to me and only to me. Any time that someone threatened to take her away, even if only temporarily, my temper would flare up, but I would let her go to do as she pleased. It was a strange kind of love that I had for her. Before I knew it, I was in too deep to pull back.

One night, just before we went to bed, Anthy gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was chaste, and soft, but I could not keep it from my mind. I did not sleep that night. When she repeated the act the next night, I slept, but only briefly. My dreams plagued me... fantasies ewhich should have been nightmares -- dreams in which I took her away from everything and everyone.

The next night, I turned my head when she went to place the kiss on my cheek. I had not seen her all day, and now I looked her in the eyes as she placed a chaste kiss on my lips which did not hold back from returning the favor.

The night after that, I found myself searching her out in our room after the lights had been turned out so that I could be the one to lay my lips upon her own.

The next night, she did not come home. I put on my slippers and my robe, and I hunted her down. She was in her garden, wearing nothing but her nightgown. As I walked up, I watched her stood and gently kiss a rose that bloomed high above the bush.

I tore that rose from the push, and placed my lips upon it. My fingers bled where the thorns broke through my skin.

When Anthy and I returned to our room the next morning, she was a bloody mess, and my mind could not stopd thinking of new ways to get inside of her. My blood stained her breasts, thighs, buttocks... and she did not breathe a word as my wounds trailed along her skin and refused to heal. Her taste, that night, was everything I'd dreamed. It was passion that had been held behind a gate and was just beginning to leak out. The next night, she showed a bit more. Each successive night brought further death to her restraint, and my own.

By day, we were the same as we had always been. Out relationship took the same tiptoed meanderings in the same disorganized directions and manners as it had before, and our classmates were none the wiser about the dance we danced each night.

Out dance was a tango of sorts. It started slow, and had a pattern to it. We even had the roses. We took turns leading, and choosing new directions. The pace picked up gradually, and kept becoming more frenetic and beautiful until it came to a dazzling halt.

Only, we haven't stopped yet. We are still in the dizzying whirlwind of the dance, and I dread the coming of the end.

I can't bring myself to prepare for it. The end of the world -- our world -- is near, and we cannot escape. We just keep turning in circles, as though a lack of equilibrium is all we need to survive.

I have not slept well since the night before I received that first chaste kiss. I have not felt myself since before I met Anthy. But I can certainly say that I have felt her.

To whatever the future may bring, come along as you like. Tea is at four o'clock. The dance must end soon. The clock must strike midnight. And it all needs only wait until the next night to begin again.

My high ideals have left me for a passion which I cannot keep fed. The inevitable is exactly that: inevitable. I need only wait to find out the outcome of all of these events.

And until the inevitable -- the end of the world -- occurs, I will only look forward to one thing: the next night.


End file.
